Brown-Eyed Girl
by whilewewereyetsinners
Summary: My entries for Round Nine of the Twilight Twenty-Five. A combination of prompted drabbles, flash fics, and one-shots either about Bella or from her POV. Canon, AU, AH. Hope you enjoy!
1. Ancient

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Ancient**

**Main Character: Bella**

**Rating: T**

**Word Count: 1100**

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**1\. Ancient**

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I've been almost a thousand years without my Edward.

I understand now why he'd gone to Italy when he thought I was dead. I would go as well, except there are no Volturi left to kill me.

There's no one left who can kill me.

As far as I know, of everyone we knew, Alice and I are the only ones left.

We were living in Scotland when war broke out. Unlike hundreds of years earlier, in the 21st century, in this war there was no concept of avoiding civilian populations; if anything, civilian targets seemed to be preferred over military ones. There were new and "improved" versions of old weapons. Incendiary bombs. Nuclear devices.

The world burned, and vampires burned with it.

We decided to head for an isolated area of the Highlands, hoping we would be safe there. The roads were impassible and the skies were unsafe, so we needed to go on foot. We split into groups, then were separated even further by the chaos.

Renesmee, Jacob, and I were separated from Edward near Perth. I worried, but was sure he would find us again, or if worse came to worst, meet us at the rendezvous point.

Jacob and Renesmee died two days later when a tiny village was inexplicably bombed with such ferocity that there was nothing left of it but a depression in the ground. We took refuge from the flames and explosions in a nearby loch.

I could stay underwater indefinitely.

They couldn't.

I buried them, wanting to crawl into the grave with my daughter, my Renesmee, my little Nessie. I tried to take comfort in the fact that at least they were together, but one of the hardest things I've ever done was to leave them there in the dirt. I finally left and made my way to the rendezvous point, both dreading having to tell Edward and longing for his comfort.

When I arrived there was no one there.

At first I was afraid I was in the wrong place. My GPS locator said it was correct, and I didn't think anyone had taken to bombing our satellites. (Yet. Before it was all over, they would.) Even if it was wrong I didn't have any idea where I should actually be. So I waited. Four days later Alice showed up.

She was bent with grief. There had been a small nuclear explosion. Esme and Carlisle had been walking some distance ahead and were dead. Jasper had thrown Alice away from the blast, and after the dust settled she couldn't find him. She spent days searching for him, moving huge pieces of rubble in the dark of night, yet finding nothing.

And in her visions, she couldn't see him. She couldn't see anyone. Except for me.

We waited there anyway, desperately hoping that Edward, or Jasper, or Emmett and Rosalie, that _someone_ would come. Alice said that she didn't see me on her journey to the rendezvous, that she didn't see me until she was actually with me again. I suspected it was because she was focused on Jasper to the exclusion of anyone else, but we chose to hope. We didn't even leave to hunt, feeding off animals that wandered within sight of our location.

Eventually the war ended, as wars always do. Civilization was decimated on a global scale. There was no modern technology, no infrastructure, and worse, a huge loss of knowledge. Libraries and universities were obliterated, and of course there was no more internet. The earth was blasted back into the Bronze Age. Even now, hundreds of years later, the humans around us live in primitive, tribal societies.

Decades passed, but no one came. Alice interacted with me less and less, turning her focus inward, as though if she concentrated just a little bit harder she would be able to see them. I suppose I wasn't much better, leaving my shield down as much as I could, mentally calling for Edward.

I began noticing local humans watching us from the trees. Watching me as I repaired our shelter. Watching us as we fed. Listening to Alice speak about her visions.

Years passed, and they grew bolder. They crept closer. I spoke with Alice about moving on, but she refused.

Strangely, I understood. If we left, we would be admitting that they were never going to come.

One day, a brave soul approached Alice to ask about the harvest.

Then another approached to ask about his future.

Then another to ask if she'd chosen her betrothed wisely.

Eventually the day came when one of the tribes tried to take her.

I couldn't allow it, of course. It felt oddly good to be so vigorous, so violent.

They stayed away for a few years after that, then gradually crept back closer, resuming their respectful approaches, finally building a temple around us. Over the centuries they've renovated and expanded it. I suppose it is beautiful. But there is no warmth, no laughter, no love. It's not a home.

Alice lives entirely in her mind now, speaking her visions as she sees them. There have been innumerable battles fought over her, and occasionally some foolish man thinks that he can take her away.

He is wrong. No one will ever take Alice away from me.

We have become the immortal goddess Aileas and her shieldmaiden Beileag. We have priests and servants. "Old one," they say to me, heads bowed respectfully, "it is time for the goddess to speak to the people." "Old one, please fetch the goddess; it is time to drink." They have developed rituals for worship, for feeding, for resting, for Alice to speak to the public. They have designed clothing for us, certain outfits for certain activities. There are songs and sagas about us, an entire mythology. It is preposterous.

When I think of my old life it seems like a wonderful dream.

The temple they built us is surrounded by crosses. They think the crosses will contain us, though they don't know why.

The crosses do nothing, of course. If we wanted to leave, if we wanted to destroy them, they couldn't stop us. Bereaved and broken as we are, we are still a thousand times more powerful than they.

But where are we to go? There is nowhere that we could have a happy life. Alice is lost in her head searching for Jasper. And constantly I unshield my mind, screaming for Edward.

There is nowhere we can go that will make any difference. Wherever we go, we cannot die. Wherever we go, we will still be alone.

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**A/N: In case you (like my husband) are wondering where on earth I got the names Aileas and Beileag, according to behindthename dot com they are the Scottish equivalent of Alice and Bella. :)**


	2. Animalistic

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Animalistic**

**Main Character: Bella**

**Rating: K+**

**Word Count: 100**

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**2\. Animalistic**

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"Stop! Just stop!" Bella shrieked.

The two guys paid no attention, too focused on viciously punching, gouging, kicking, and clawing each other.

How could girls think it was romantic for boys to fight over them? It was _awful_.

The winner hauled himself up painfully, ignoring the still form of his opponent on the ground. "Bella," he rasped, reaching a hand toward her.

She recoiled. "Don't touch me! What is _wrong_ with you?"

He looked surprised. "But Bella, I did it for you."

"I didn't want it! And now I don't want either of you!" She stormed off, wiping angry tears.

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**A/N: AU/AH, don't know what boys or who won. LOL This prompt gave me a lot of trouble for some reason; I finally gave up on coming up with something better.  
**


	3. Banned

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Banned**

**Main Character: Bella**

**Rating: K+**

**Word Count: 100**

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**3\. Banned**

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I try not to let the visions come. What I do see I try not to think about.

Edward ordered me not to check on Bella.

And I try. I don't do it on purpose.

But the visions still come.

Bella unresponsive on her bed as Charlie pleads with her.

Bella going about her day with empty eyes.

Bella waking up screaming.

Bella holding herself together with her arms.

Bella choosing to be alone.

We promised Edward we wouldn't go back to Forks.

But Bella's my friend.

She needs help.

I don't know how much longer I can stay away.

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**A/N: Canon, NM, Alice POV**


	4. Complications

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Complications  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count:** **500**

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**4\. Complications**

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**March 2000**

Bella fumbled the door open, pleased to have done it without dropping the groceries or her backpack, then froze in the doorway. The house was stuffy, and too quiet. She hit the light switch with her shoulder.

Nothing.

"No, no, no!" She headed for the kitchen, throwing the cold things in the fridge as quickly as possible. "Please tell me she didn't forget to pay the bill _again_. Please, please," she muttered, grabbing the phone book.

After five minutes of horribly perky music, a representative finally came on the line.

"Hi. I'd like to report an outage?" Bella rattled off her address, hoping that somehow it wasn't her mother's fault. She heard computer keys clicking.

"May I ask with whom I'm speaking?" the woman asked frostily.

"I'm Bella. Um, Isabella Swan."

"I'm sorry, Miss Swan, but I can't speak to you about this account. Is Renee Swan available?"

"No, she's not home yet. Can you just tell me why it's off? Did my mom—"

"I'm sorry, dear, I really can't discuss the account with you. Please have Renee call when she returns home."

"Okay. Thanks." Bella hung up and let her forehead hit the wall. "Ow."

She put away the rest of the groceries and opened some windows, then decided to get her homework done while she could still see it. She was finishing up when she heard her mother's key in the lock.

"Hi, baby! Why's it so quiet in here?"

Irritation welling back up, Bella asked abruptly, "Did you pay the electric bill?"

"Oh no! I completely forgot! Did they turn the power off?" Renee laughed merrily. "Don't look so upset, honey. I'll call them right now and take care of it."

Bella checked her homework and got her backpack packed for the morning, hearing her mother laughing and saying cheerfully, "My daughter got it ready for me, but I completely forgot to mail it! Three months in a row! Can you believe it?" _No_, Bella thought petulantly, _they probably can't believe that anyone would be so irresponsible_. She immediately felt guilty.

"All done!" Renee sang as she came back into the living room. "I paid over the phone, and it'll be turned back on tomorrow."

Bella forced a smile. "That's great, Mom."

"So, I was thinking we could light candles and spread out a blanket and have a picnic; remember how we used to when you were little?"

"Was the electricity turned off then, too?" Bella clapped a hand over her mouth. "Sorry. I…" She couldn't say she didn't really mean it. "Sorry."

"Baby, what's the matter? It isn't like you to get so upset."

"I was planning to watch a movie, and some of the food in the fridge will go bad, and…" She sighed. "It's not important. Listen, Mom, from now on why don't you sign the checks as soon as I get them ready and I'll mail them, okay?"

"That's probably a good idea." Renee smiled indulgently. "My little middle-aged child."

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**A/N: Hopefully obvious, but canon-ish, pre-Twilight. Bella was twelve.**


	5. Covert

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Covert  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count: 100**

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**5\. Covert**

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"You think I wouldn't be a good spy?" Emmett looked offended.

I shrugged. "You can be stealthy, but secretive…?"

"Let me tell you a little story about the war, Bella."

"Which war?"

"World War Two, of course. You ever hear of the Resistance movements, or Kilroy?"

"_You_ were Kilroy?"

"Yep. Well, Edward, too."

I gaped at him.

Edward laughed, his breath wafting past my ear, making me shiver. "Technically, we weren't the only ones to use that name. Or the first."

"Maybe not, bro, but we were the most awesome!"

They bumped fists enthusiastically.

Edward and Emmett were Kilroy?

Unbelievable.

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**A/N: Set some time during the first three books. Within the realm of theoretical canon possibilities? Maybe? LOL For some reason I love the idea of Edward and Emmett skulking around Europe undermining the Nazis. I can't imagine they wouldn't have wanted to go fight in some capacity.**


	6. Crush

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Crush  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
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**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count: 100**

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**6\. Crush**

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I sighed as Edward Cullen walked past my table in the cafeteria, my eyes involuntarily following him.

"Mm, mm, mm, that boy looks good from the front _and_ the back."

"Rose!" I shrieked. My hated blush flooded my face.

"What? It's a fact. You like it, so why pretend otherwise?"

I hid my face in my hands.

"You like him, Bella. You should talk to him," Alice said encouragingly.

"Oh, sure. He doesn't know I exist."

"Then why's he watching you?"

I cautiously turned my head to look at him.

He was.

Our eyes met, and he smiled at me.

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**A/N: AU/AH Don't worry, Rose doesn't want Edward for herself, she's just enjoying poking at Bella. And enjoying the view, apparently. :D **


	7. Desecrate

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Desecrate  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 3873  
**

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**7\. Desecrate**

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**Anno Domini 1514**

**_._**

**_Domine, exaudi orationem meum, et clamor meus ad te veniat_. Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry come to you.**

I had never meant to lead her into sin.

I had never meant to love her.

I had never meant for any of this to happen.

**_Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. _By my fault, by my fault, by my most grievous fault.**

I had been installed as priest for Saint Aldeberge's Priory in Kent for only two months when Isabella's father sent her to be educated by the nuns. I did not take particular note of her at first, she was just one more young face in a sea of female faces, and I rarely interacted with the students, novices, and younger nuns. Over the next two years I gradually came to know her through hearing her confessions. She was so earnest and felt the weight of her most minor transgressions so strongly that I could not help admiring the beauty of her soul. That is not to say that she was saintly, but in truth her spirit and occasional stubbornness amused and enchanted rather than repulsed me, as perhaps they should have done. On one occasion she confessed to me that she loathed Sister Jane, but was not yet ready to be absolved and do penance since she had no intention of stopping, and I nearly laughed. Laughed, in the confessional! It was shameful.

I took care not to show her any preference and to be just in assigning her penances. I did not realize what I was allowing to develop within myself.

In the spring of the third year I could continue in blindness no longer.

There was an outbreak of virulent illness, both in the priory and the village, and few of us remained well enough to aid the infected. Beside myself, only Dame Alianore, Sister Joan, Isabella, and another student, Alice, remained in health. Over the next three weeks we worked in shifts, the nuns at night and the students during the day, while I helped with both pairs, sleeping briefly when I could. When some of the less ill priory folk were well enough to help, I accompanied the girls to the village to give what assistance we could there. The girls obviously felt great affection for one another and worked well together. The three of us grew comfortable in each other's company, during quiet spells talking about books and plays, sharing stories about our families and childhoods. I liked them both, but found myself continually drawn toward Isabella, to her kindness, her gentleness, and her fortitude. For the first time I realized how lovely she was, both by sun and by candlelight.

One afternoon near the end of our work in the village, I watched her smile at an old woman as she assisted her back into bed and was forced to acknowledge that my feelings for her were not the sort of affectionate indulgence one might feel for a younger sister, not the sort of feelings I had developed for Alice, but that they were something more. Far more.

The realization was horrifying. The way I cared for her was wrong, terrible, sinful. God had made her pure and lovely. How could I sully her by thinking of her this way? I profaned not only my position as priest, but God Himself, by having these feelings.

I ran outside and vomited behind the building, drawing far more attention to myself than I would have liked and leading to fears that I would be the last person to become ill with the disease.

I wasn't sick (well, not in body; my mind was an entirely different matter) but they were correct that I had lost any sense of ease.

The wave of illness ended, finally, and I tried to regain a sense of distance. It was extremely difficult. My every instinct drew me to Isabella, and pretending to ignore her was agony. I noticed Alice watching me occasionally, and feared that she suspected my sin. I spent as much time out of the cloister or hiding in my chamber as I could. Every time I performed mass I felt as though I was drowning in my sinfulness and when I handled the Host I half-expected God to strike me dead. After a few weeks, I almost welcomed the idea, though I knew that was sinful as well. I had a purpose here on earth, duties, responsibilities. I could not shirk them to escape earthly passions.

Shortly thereafter, my mother and my elder brother Emmet came for one of their twice-yearly visits. We were a close-knit family and I was happy to see them, but I knew that I was not myself. While I knew they would notice, I hoped they wouldn't comment.

The visit went well, until the day before they left. We saw Isabella crossing the yard on her way to bring something to the guesthall, the late-afternoon sun gleaming on her braided back hair, and my mother asked who she was. When I told her, she said, "Ah, of Swan Court? I remember her as a child. I heard her father is in betrothal talks for her—I don't recall with who." She then said the most unwittingly cruel thing of all, "Your father once thought of her as a wife for you, before he began thinking of you as a priest."

If she had taken a red-hot poker and thrust it into my chest, it would have hurt less.

She continued chattering away, while I fought to breathe normally and Emmet watched me with a dawning awareness in his eyes.

That evening, after my mother left our company for her chamber in the cloister, I walked Emmet back to the guesthall. He asked me if I was well. I lied (giving myself yet another thing to repent of) and said that I was. He asked if there was anything I needed. I opened my mouth to say no, but heard these words come out: "Find out who." He didn't ask what I meant, just nodded and clapped me on the shoulder with his large hand.

Perhaps it was wrong, but I needed to know that she had a chance of happiness. I needed to know she would be safe.

_**Custodi illam, Domine. Sub umbra alarum tuarum protégé illam.**_**Guard her, Lord. Under the shadow of your wings protect her.**

As the days went by, my feelings inexplicably grew in strength. I was dreaming of her by night, and repenting of the dreams and my love for her during the day. I begged God to take it all away. I knew I was too weak to fight it alone.

Isabella's confessions had gradually become stilted and brief, to the point that I feared she had noticed my feelings for her and was allowing her discomfort and natural horror to prevent her from making confession properly. I knew she had a strong moral compass. Was I imperiling her soul by remaining here? Though I knew she likely did not have much longer here and I shrank from needing to explain my reasons, for her sake I considered asking for a reassignment.

Emmet returned, much to my surprise, less than three weeks after his visit with my mother. His public reason was that he was sent by his wife on pilgrimage to Canterbury, in gratitude for their babe's quickening. I was very happy to find that this was, in fact, true, since Rose had never borne any children, usually miscarrying the infants long before the point of quickening.

That evening, over supper in my chamber, I learned his other reason for coming. He told me grimly that he'd made inquiries and discovered that Isabella's father was in betrothal talks with James Huntian.

I felt sick. We'd grown up with James. He'd been an odious boy, never hesitating to cause harm with his words or his fists, and had grown into a cruel man. He'd married shortly before I came to St. Aldeberge's, but Emmet told me his wife and daughter had died suddenly about a year ago. I was stunned that Sir Charles would consider marrying his only child to such a man, but Emmet was of the opinion that he was still too deep in grief from the death of his wife three years earlier to know what he was about.

Before Emmet left for the guesthall to sleep, he pressed a heavy leather purse into my hand. I tried to protest, but he closed my fingers around it, telling me there was a letter inside, and to read it. Then, in a manner quite unlike him, he embraced me.

The following day, several hours after Emmet's departure, James arrived to meet Isabella.

I was unaware of his arrival, having been in the village assisting Father Giles, the village's priest, with court. I was surprised to find them alone in the church, her back arching her away from him and his hands holding too tightly to her jaw and upper arm. He let her go when he saw me, bowing mockingly at us both and telling her he would see her again soon. We stood in silence after he left, her fear and humiliation palpable. Eventually she whispered that she didn't want to marry him. I agreed that she shouldn't, and told her to tell her father.

She looked at me in such a way that I knew her father would be of no help to her, and I was furiously, impotently angry at him.

I was helplessly watching the bruises bloom on her face when she whispered that she had told James she would become a nun rather than marry him. I asked without thought, "Do you feel God calling you to do so?"

Betrayal flashed in her eyes, and after a long moment she turned and walked away.

I knew that was the question I needed to ask her. One should not become a bride of Christ to escape earthly marriage, no matter the manner of man involved, but I could not help but feel that I had failed her in that moment. My confusion and torment grew.

**_Omnipotens deus, misereatur mei et dimissis peccatis meis. _Almighty god, have pity on me and dismiss my sins.**

Even with the padded kneeler, my knees had become sore from praying, and my fingers had begun to wear smooth grooves into the wood of the prie dieu in my chamber. I only slept when unable to stay awake any longer, sometimes sleeping draped over my prie dieu, falling asleep and waking with words of supplication and remorse on my lips. My dreams were torturous. Sometimes I dreamt of being with Isabella, of there being no bar between us; other times I dreamt of Isabella with James, dreams in which she begged for my help while he hurt her, or where I must watch while he touched her. She would be his wife, to do with as he pleased, to pleasure or to injure. Knowing which he would usually choose to inflict on her made me literally sick.

In her next confession Isabella told me in a shaking voice that she loved, but not the man her father intended to betroth her to. I forced myself to be silent, afraid of what I would say if I opened my mouth. After several minutes, she whispered, "Please say something. Fa— _Edward._ Please." My head thumped against the screen as I doubled over, gritting my teeth and fisting my hands in my hair so hard that it hurt.

After a few minutes of listening to each other's ragged breathing she inhaled deeply and quietly exited the confessional. I could hear the hushed whisper of the leather soles of her shoes on the tiled floor as she walked away, and it took all of my strength not to follow her.

Alice's betrothed, Sir Jasper Whytlock, came to visit two days later. Alice asked to introduce us, and we walked in the orchard, enjoying the late summer sun. Her maidservant had wandered off to pick flowers, though still in sight of her charge, when Sir Jasper began speaking of his sister Emme, who was married to a Carles Cullen, an Englishman living in Saxony, near Wittenberg. I was listening politely, wondering why he felt the need to tell me this, when he looked about him and said quietly, "We're getting Isabella out of here tonight."

I worked to keep my face impassive as he told me of Alice's desire to get Isabella out of the country before her father signed a betrothal contract. He would be providing her with a man and maidservant, and accompanying them as far as the ship, from whence she would travel to his sister's. He couldn't travel with her farther than Folkestone since he was hoping no one would realize who had helped her leave, making it easier for her to remain hidden. He looked me in the eyes for a moment, as though measuring what sort of man I was, then reached inside his jerkin and pulled out a packet of papers wrapped in oiled cloth. "Carles is looking for a clerk," he said. "A man who is good with languages, particularly Latin."

I stared in surprise, then protested that an honorable man would not want one such as I in his household, and that I wasn't willing to lie to him. He assured me that there would be no objection to my presence, even intimating that Carles didn't believe that priests should be unable to marry.

I took an involuntary step back. A Lollard?

Apparently I said it aloud, because Jasper replied drily that they preferred Wycliffite. He handed me the packet, and told me it was a letter of introduction and a recommendation, as well as a letter of credit. I told him blankly that I had money, and he smiled widely for the first time. "He'll do," he said to Alice.

He quickly reverted to briskness, telling me they would be leaving when everyone settled back into bed after Matins. There was to be a full moon that night, so traveling would not be a problem, and he wanted to get as far away as possible before dawn. If I wanted to go, I should meet them by the old hedgerow between the priory and the village as soon after Matins as I could.

Alice took my hand before they left me in the orchard and said quietly, "I hope you aren't here in the morning, Father Edward, but please. For Isabella's sake, don't go unless you are able to be what she needs."

I stood there for a long time, staring at the trees with unseeing eyes, then made my way to my chamber. I told a servant in passing that I was feeling unwell and wished to be left alone until morning. I knelt at my prie dieu, my knees fitting into the dents in the cushion and my fingers into the grooves in the wood; I knelt there and for the first time in months opened my mouth and nothing came out. No prayers, no pleas for forgiveness or deliverance, nothing. My heart was too full for words.

The sky was nearly dark when I asked desperately, "_Quid vis ut faciam?__" _ What do I do?

I knelt there through the tolling of the bell for Vespers and Compline, my forehead pressed to the wood. When the bell tolled for Matins, I rose and packed my books, letters, and a change of clothes into a small bag. I put part of Emmet's money in my belt pouch and secreted the remainder and the packet of papers from Sir Jasper within the folds of my clothing. Then I knelt back down to wait for the nuns, and anyone else who was about, to return to bed.

The hushed noises finally ceased, and I whispered honestly, _"__Domine,__si peccaverint tibi non vis. Quaeso, si non, tunc mihi prohibere.__" _Lord, I do not wish to sin against you. Please, if I should not go, then stop me.

I stood, feeling closer to peace than I had for months. I pulled the hood of my black cloak over my tonsured head and slipped silently out the door.

**_Omnipotens deus, misereatur nostri et dimissis peccatis nostris. _Almighty god, have pity on us and dismiss our sins.**

Isabella cried when she saw that I had come. We reached Folkestone in time for breakfast and crossed the channel to Calais that same day. The journey to Carles' estate took almost two months. A little more than halfway there my tonsure had grown out sufficiently for Willem, the manservant Sir Jasper sent with us, to trim the rest of my hair to match it. He found me non-priestly clothes, and Isabella and I were married, with himself and Margery, the maidservant, as witnesses.

I had expected to feel wretchedly guilty, but to my surprise, the months that followed were some of the happiest of my life. Marriage to Isabella was more wonderful than I had ever dreamed. I liked and respected both Carles and his wife, and I enjoyed working for him. I even enjoyed the theological discussions I was invited to take part in with Carles' circle of friends. Though I could not help but be shocked at some of the ideas and think them heretical, the study of the Bible with educated people was very interesting. And really, on what moral grounds could I, an apostate priest, judge another? Not that anyone knew that I had been a priest, of course. For secrecy's sake, I was known to everyone as Carles' cousin, and Isabella and I took his last name as our own. I sent Emmet a letter, signed with my new name, to let him know that we were safe, and received one in return telling us that Rose was safely delivered of a son, whom they named Jacob Edward. They had wished to name him for me, but Rose's parents objected, so they named him after his godfather and took the unusual step of giving him a second name. Emmet said they called him Ned, after me. I hoped that one day we would meet him.

There were few shadows over my life, but those that there were troubled me greatly. I deeply regretted the distress and anger we must have left behind us. The repercussions of having a student and a priest disappear, presumably together, was a burden I was sorry for the priory to bear. Sometimes I worried that James would try to track down Isabella, or that the Church was trying to find me. I prayed that we would remain safely hidden, though I wasn't sure if God would listen to me anymore, or if I had the right to ask Him for anything. Sundays were difficult. I was uncomfortable attending mass, as I was afraid God wouldn't want me there. After what I had done, why would He?

I feared sometimes that my happiness was an insult to God, and that He would not long tolerate it.

**_Miserere nostri, Domine, miserere nostri. Fiat misericordia tua, Domine, super nos, quemadmodum speravimus in te. _Pity us, Lord, pity us. Have your mercy, Lord, on us, as we have hoped in you.**

When Isabella became pregnant, I tried not to be afraid.

I was happy, of course I was. I dreamed of a little girl with dark hair and eyes, just like her mother. Isabella made me laugh by her manner of informing me it would be a boy with my hair and eyes. I assured her that I didn't care what the baby was; I just wanted them to both be healthy.

What I meant was, I wanted them to both survive.

Emme mothered her, and my motherless wife enjoyed every moment of it. Isabella grew more beautiful as the child grew within her. Sometimes looking at her hurt my heart and made tears sting my eyes. I watched her sleep at night and prayed that God wouldn't take her from me.

Three days ago, Isabella went into labor.

She labors still.

**_Kyrie eleison…Christe eleison…Kyrie eleison_… Lord, have mercy... Christ, have mercy... Lord, have mercy.**

For the last two days, since it became apparent that this was not an ordinary birth, I have lain on the floor before the altar in Carles' chapel, and begged.

Begged for Isabella's life.

Begged for the baby, that he or she will have a chance to live a Godly life.

Begged for the forgiveness of my myriad sins.

Begged for Him to take me instead.

I pressed my wet face to the cool tile, out of words. Out of Latin. Out of rote prayers. All that was left was the grief and longing of my soul.

"Please," I whispered in English. "Please."

I know not how long I lay there before I heard someone enter the chapel.

"Edward," Carles said gently. "You have a daughter."

I kept laying there, waiting for the rest of it.

"It was a very difficult birth, but Isabella has survived."

A sob burst out of me, interrupting him. He came and sat on the floor next to me, placing his hand on my back.

"Edward," he continued, "it is very likely that she will not be able to have more children."

I turned my head and looked at him. "Good," was all I said. I was glad she would never have to go through this again.

He patted my back. "Shall we go see your family?"

I slowly got up off the floor, every joint stiff and painful, and stretched. We started to walk out, then I turned around and knelt at the altar. "Thank you," I said fervently.

For the first time, I thought it possible that I was forgiven.

**_Miserator et misericors Dominus, longanimis et multae misericordiae. Quem non transgredientur, neque convertentur operire morabuntur; aut nos propter peccata nostra et non agit secundum iniquitates nostras retribuas nobis. _The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love. He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities.**

Isabella looked exhausted, but was more beautiful to me than ever. I told her so, and laughed quietly as she scoffed at me. I sat on the bed, holding our daughter as my wife rested her head against my leg, and wondered how it was possible to bear so much happiness.

Emme got up from her chair, looking almost as exhausted as Isabella, and leaned against Carles. He wrapped his arm around her and asked, "Before I get my wife in bed, would you mind if I blessed you?"

"Please do," I replied.

He placed his hands on my head and Isabella's, praying, "_Confer salute corporum veramque pacem cordium." _ He then moved his hands to the baby, who blinked at him owlishly, and repeated in English, "Give the body health and true peace to the heart."

**_Confitemini __Domino quoniam bonus, quoniam in aeternum misericordia eius__. _Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his love endures forever.**

* * *

**A/N: AU/AH, obviously. Yeah, so I figured this would be about 1,000 words...ha! Everything I know about Benedictine priory life in the late middle ages and most of the Latin prayers I gleaned from the Dame Frevisse series by Margaret Frazer- if you are at all interested in _really_ good, realistic medieval mysteries, I highly recommend anything by her. Interestingly, Isabella, Edward, Jasper, Alice, Rose, James, Jane, Jacob, Elizabeth, Charles, Swan, Brandon, and Whitlock/Whytlok are all medieval names, some of them very common. Esme and Carlisle don't appear to have existed, so I got as close as I could, but I fudged with Emmet- it may be a female name since Emmot was. LOL, poor guy. If it's not clear, the bold-face Latin-English between the sections is stuff Edward is praying during and after Isabella's labor. PM or review if you have any questions- I'm afraid that what people are thinking isn't always obvious. Let me know if you'd like a copy of the letter Emmet put in the money pouch he gave to Edward- I couldn't make it fit in the story. :)  
**


	8. Disheveled

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Disheveled  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K  
**

**Word Count: 100  
**

* * *

**8\. Disheveled**

* * *

She is beautiful.

I see her through the minds of Felix and Demetri, and see how little they think of her. They only notice tangled hair, dark-circled eyes, a rumpled shirt marred further by water, jeans that are soaked below the knees.

They don't see how many shades of brown and red are in her glorious hair.

They don't see how fathomless are her eyes; that you could spend eternity gazing into them, never discovering all their secrets.

They don't see how irrelevant her clothing is, that her beauty radiates from within.

She is so beautiful.

And they are fools.

* * *

**A/N: Canon, NM, Edward POV- probably obvious, but just in case. :)**


	9. Exposed

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Exposed  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 500**

* * *

**9\. Exposed**

* * *

**Monday, September 26, 2005**

I shut the door of my truck and huddled into my coat, pulling my hood up to protect me from the drizzle, the whispers, the stares.

I had to do this. I was _not_ going to Florida.

Jessica was the first to greet me, overflowing with curiosity.

Mike was the second, overflowing with hope.

Angela was the third, overflowing with compassion.

She was the worst.

I didn't talk to any of them. I was too busy trying not to think.

Trying not to think about the things he'd said in the forest.

Trying not to think about how awful it was to walk into school on an overcast day without him.

Trying not to think about how he would never come through my window again.

But mostly, trying not to think about what a completely crappy job he was doing in making it be like he never existed.

If he never existed, the empty chair next to me in all my classes wouldn't be _his_ chair, and the second empty chair in some classes wouldn't be _her_ chair. The empty lockers down the hall would be someone else's lockers. My locker wouldn't have his button-down hanging in it from when he lent it to me a few weeks ago when I was cold, and taped inside the door wouldn't be a strip of pictures from when she forced me into a photo booth with her at the mall in Seattle. If he didn't exist, he never would have leaned against the locker next to mine while waiting for me to get my things. He never would have tugged me beneath various stairwells to steal a kiss. He never would have sat beside me in the cafeteria, his leg so close to mine and his arm occasionally brushing against me as he played with my bottle caps and pretended to eat.

Every inch of these buildings is steeped in memory.

It is beautifully tortuous.

I headed to lunch when the bell rang, too nauseous to even think about eating. I was walking to my table, pretending I didn't notice everyone watching me and talking about me, when my foot hit a small puddle on the floor and slid.

My brain instinctively expected him to catch me.

My knees hit the tile with a loud, painful crack.

In the hush that followed, I heard giggling. "Oh God, she's such a klutz!" Lauren whispered loudly. "I don't know how Edward could stand being with her."

_He couldn't_, I thought. I doubled over at the pain of it, my arms wrapped around myself so that I wouldn't rip completely open and bleed out on the dirty tile in front of everyone. _He couldn't. _

Don't cry. Don't cry. Just stop thinking. Don'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcrydon'tcry...

"Bella?" Angela said gently. "Let me help you to the nurse."

She didn't ask if I was okay.

The nurse gave me ice for my knees.

The cold was too much of a relief.

I will never be okay.

* * *

**A/N: NM canon-ish, Bella POV. Can you imagine how bad her first day back must have been? Poor thing. I guessed at the date, but she missed a week of work and school so it seemed plausible. I also think it's plausible that there was stuff in her locker belonging to/reminding her of Edward and Alice. Edward doesn't exactly think clearly when upset (ha! what an understatement) and I don't have the impression he was following her around between classes those last few days of school. So unless something specifically reminded him of it, I doubt her locker was even on his radar. **


	10. Fabricate

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Fabricate  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**10\. Fabricate**

* * *

"You _lied_ to me?!"

My own _mother_ had lied to me. And not just once—she had lied to me for years!

To be fair, it wasn't just her. My whole world had lied to me. I saw him everywhere I went: in stores, at my neighbors' homes, even at school. He seemed real, but instead he never even existed.

I didn't feel like being fair, though. Even though the world lied too, _she_ had taught me lying was wrong. _She_ should have told me the truth.

"Bella, it wasn't really a lie. Santa's just a magical part of Christmas!"

* * *

**A/N: Bella POV, canon-compliant. Based on a true story. Really! When my older daughter found out that Santa wasn't real the first line of this was how she reacted. She was outraged, and for years would bring it up when we would tell her things, and now it's turned into a big family joke. My younger daughter, on the other hand, was incredibly relieved to find out that he wasn't real, since the idea of a "fat, creepy, old man" sneaking into the house while we all were sleeping really freaked her out. Yeah. We're kind of a weird family. LOL  
**


	11. Forbidden

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Forbidden  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count: 499**

* * *

11\. Forbidden

* * *

I shouldn't do this.

But Rosalie was wrong.

I know I promised Bella I would leave her in peace. I know I shouldn't call her when it was supposed to be like I'd never existed. Non-existent creatures don't make phone calls.

But Rosalie. Was. _Wrong_.

I was desperate to prove her sick joke wrong.

If Bella answered I would just hang up. She would never know it was me, never know I was breaking my promise to her.

Resolved, I opened my phone and slowly dialed the one number I had vowed to never call again.

Her phone rang, once…twice…

"Hello?" Her sweet voice, slightly breathless, filled my ear.

Oh, thank _God_. Rosalie _was_ wrong.

The relief crashed over me, freezing me in place. I knew I should hang up, that I was breaking faith with both of us by staying on the line with her, but I couldn't force my hand to close the phone. I could hear her breathing. It was the most glorious, healing sound I had ever heard.

How I'd missed her.

"Hello?" More questioning now, the tiniest wisp of irritation threaded through the word.

I was shattering. I was dissolving. I was weak, too weak to stay away from her. I couldn't break the tenuous thread formed between us by her breath and her voice and this phone connection. I was too thankful she still existed.

A strange sound burst from me, filled with relief and remorse and joy and self-loathing and gratitude and sorrow and too many emotions. It was too much.

"Oh, thank God. Oh, thank God, oh Bella, you're alive, you're safe, Bella, oh Bella." I was crying tearlessly, in the completely ineffectual way vampires do, and talking too fast, but I was just so _grateful_ that she wasn't dead.

She sucked in a deep breath and asked faintly, "Edward?" I heard a swish and a slight thud, as if she'd slid down a wall and sat on the floor.

"Oh, thank God, oh Bella."

"Edward, are you okay?"

I could hear the wild note in my laugh. "Yes… no. I just… I missed you all the time, so much I could hardly _bear_ it, but it was okay because you were safe, I wanted you to be safe, and I hoped you were happy, but then Rosalie called… and… oh Bella, thank God you're all right."

"You… _missed_ me?"

Why was she confused?

"Of course I missed you. I love you. More than anything."

Her breathing sped up, but she didn't reply. I pressed the phone harder to my ear, certain I could hear her precious heartbeat.

"I'm sorry I broke my promise to you. I was going to hang up as I soon as I knew you were okay, but I—Bella, you are okay, right?"

She was crying now, but when she spoke I could tell she was smiling. "Edward, I have never been better in my life than I am right now. When are you coming home?"

* * *

**A/N: NM AU/Vamps, Edward POV. The idea for this came from the outtake "Rosalie's News" on SM's site. I've always wondering what would have happened if Bella had answered the phone instead of Jake- would he really have just hung up? I'd planned for this to be longer and involve Jacob's reaction and more disbelief/convincing on Bella/Edward's parts, but in the end I didn't feel like dealing with Jacob's drama or figuring out a way to keep Jacob and Alice from having an epic battle and tearing up Charlie's house. Maybe one day. LOL**


	12. Forgotten

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Forgotten  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 1002  
**

* * *

**TRIGGER WARNING- PLEASE READ: Rosalie thinks back on her rape in this. It's not explicit and it's only a few sentences, but I don't want to upset anyone. Please PM me and I'll be happy to send you a "clean" version, no questions asked.  
**

* * *

**12\. Forgotten**

* * *

"Cut it out, darlin'," Jasper reprimanded his wife amusedly.

"She trying to figure out her anniversary gift again?" Emmett asked. Jasper just rolled his eyes.

Alice giggled. "I don't like surprises. If you would just tell me…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes dulled as a vision overtook her.

"Quick, Jasper, decide now while she's distracted!" Emmett said excitedly.

"Baby, it doesn't work that way," I reminded him. "Remember?" Really, Alice had been with our family for fifty-five _years_. Shouldn't he know how her gift worked by now?

"Well, I think—"

Alice gasped as she came back to awareness, drawing all our attention. "Oh, no! No, no; where's my phone?! Jazz, do you know where—" He tossed it to her and she snatched it out of the air, dialing before it was completely in her hand. "Come on, come on… damn it, Edward!" She disconnected and dialed again. "Edward, answer your phone!"

"Alice, what's going on?" Jasper demanded. Carlisle and Esme darted into the room, hand in hand, faces concerned.

She held up a hand, silently asking us to wait as her face went blank, then she slumped back in her chair. "Oh, thank goodness. He's going to find her in time."

"Alice, what did you see?" Carlisle asked.

"It was Bella." I mentally rolled my eyes. Of course it was. "There were these men, they were going to… and one of them would have killed her afterwards." Esme gasped, her hand over her mouth. "But Edward found her; he saved her." Alice's eyes were shining like he was a hero, like he should be immortalized in stone.

_Oh wait_, I thought sarcastically. _He already was_.

"Did he…" Carlisle took a breath. "What did he do when he found her?"

"He took her away." Her face stilled for a split second. "They're talking; he's going to take her to dinner before driving her home."

Emmett snorted. "He's making a date out of it? I didn't know he had it in him." He and Jasper laughed, and I glared at them. There was nothing amusing about any of this, in my opinion. In fact, I didn't know what was less funny: that Edward was endangering us all by cavorting with a human, or that the girl had nearly been gang-raped and murdered.

"I think it's wonderful that he's taking such good care of her," Esme said as firmly as her gentle voice allowed. "And I'm so glad he was there in time to save her."

"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "It was the best possible resolution." I snorted lightly, quickly straightening my face as his eyes slid to mine. He continued smoothly, "Alice, you're sure he'll take her home after dinner? No one needs to go to Port Angeles?"

"That's his current plan, Carlisle. I'll keep an eye on him to see if anything changes," Alice promised cheerfully.

"Very well. If you need me, I'll be in my office." He and Esme drifted out of the room.

"Jasper, want to spar?" Emmett asked.

"Sure, why not? Not like I'll be getting any gift decisions made tonight." He winked at Alice and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Outside!" Esme called to them. They disappeared out the door, Alice wandering out behind them, none of them paying me the least bit of attention.

I sat there, wondering why I was the only one who thought Edward's bizarre infatuation with the little human girl was a really bad thing. Carlisle thought Edward could do no wrong—he probably wouldn't say anything if Edward went so far as to tell the girl the truth about us. Esme was so delighted that her little boy was finally growing up that she wouldn't care if the girl was a Martian. Alice had proclaimed that she and the girl were going to be friends and pestered Edward on a daily basis for permission to talk to her. Jasper was prepared to love anything Alice loved—he'd never purposefully do anything to make her unhappy. And even Emmett abandoned me! He told me yesterday that he thought Edward was insane, but that the girl seemed nice enough. "And he loves her, Rose. What do you want him to do?"

I snorted again, loudly this time. He didn't really love her. The mere idea was preposterous. She was just a human, and a plain one at that. He was indulging his high-minded romanticism, getting in touch with his long-lost humanity, challenging himself to find a way to unlock her mind, who knows what ridiculous motivations he had? But _love_? No.

Why would he love a plain little human, when he could have had…

I cut the thought off. I had _never_ wanted him. Why should I care that he was unaffected by my beauty? I didn't. I didn't care. His stupidity didn't decrease my appeal. Besides, I had Emmett, and he was almost everything I had ever wanted. If we could just be human… have children, grow old together… my life would be perfect.

Although…

I huddled deeper into the sofa.

Emmett had left me here. After hearing what had almost happened to Bella, he didn't even consider that it might bring back memories of what _did_ happen to me. Memories of grasping hands, more than should ever be on a woman's body at once. The sound of tearing cloth and my useless shrieks. The chill of the air, the iciness of the pavement. The warmth of my blood against my frozen skin. The pain… So much pain.

I curled into a ball, wrapping my arms tightly around my legs.

I didn't want that to have happened to the girl. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. But everyone—my family, my husband—was so happy that she was safe. Why didn't any of them think about how it might affect me? Why didn't _Emmett_? All any of them cared about now was Edward and that girl. Why wasn't anyone considering my feelings at all?

Didn't anyone care about me?

* * *

**A/N: Canon-compliant, Rosalie POV. I hope I did her justice- I had a hard time getting into her head. I got insight into her thoughts about E&amp;B's relationship from Midnight Sun and the "Miscalculation" outtake from SM's site. I always wondered how Rosalie felt about Edward saving Bella- not that she would have wanted anything to happen to Bella, just that Edward saved Bella when no one saved her. And of course, that Bella's suitor saved her while Rosalie's suitor betrayed and essentially killed her. **


	13. Hunger

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Hunger  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 500**

* * *

**13\. Hunger**

* * *

**Friday, September 16****th**

**3 am**

.

She doesn't know I'm here.

After all these months, I've returned to sneaking in her window or watching her while hidden in the trees. Stalking her, like the vile monster I am. It disgusts me, yet I can't bring myself to stay away, knowing this is the last time I'll watch her sleep. Knowing that after tomorrow I'll never see her again.

Pain ripped through my chest at the mere thought of leaving her, and I leaned against the wall next to her open window, envying the moonlight as it filtered through her curtains and touched her face, painting it with lacy patterns.

How I want her. How do I crave thee, I thought darkly. Let me count the ways.

Her blood, with its constant siren call. Even tainted by James' venom, it was the most delicious thing to ever flow over my tongue. Damn my perfect vampire memory—I've never wanted to forget _anything_ more than I did the exquisite taste of her blood.

Her warmth, which drew me to her with the force of a tractor beam. I could feel it from across the room, trying to wrap itself around me and pull me nearer. In my entire existence, nothing had felt better than being close to her, being touched by her gentle, warm hands.

Her thoughts, precious and hidden from me. It was such a gift when she shared them, sometimes moving, sometimes humbling, sometimes so funny. She was such a good person, so beautiful, inside and out.

Her body, so perfect and soft and lovely. So alluring, sometimes even more tempting than her blood. So beautiful. So breakable. I studied the neat row of stitches on her arm, and the bruises I'd given her when I pushed her away from Jasper and into the table. So horribly, terribly fragile.

She stirred, the lacy moonlight sliding lower, over her neck. I watched its descent, loathing myself as the monster rattled its cage, thirsting for the blood pulsing beneath her skin.

Her blood. Her gloriously seductive blood. The alpha and omega to a vampire. You started your "life" ravenous, and even after you matured and got some control over yourself, in the end everything in your existence always came back to blood.

"Edward," she murmured. I tore my eyes away from her neck, wishing I wasn't a vampire. Wishing I didn't endanger her every second I spent with her. Wishing I was different, that everything was different, and she could be safe with me.

"Don't… don't go." Her brow furrowed and she shifted restlessly, moving towards wakefulness. "Edward, please. Stay."

With every fiber of my being I longed to go to her, to gather her into my arms and bury my face in her hair, to assure her that I would never, never leave her.

Instead I slipped silently through her window, closing it behind me, and spent the rest of my night's vigil in the trees. Far from her, where I belonged.

**A/N: Canon-compliant, Edward POV. In case you didn't realize the significance of the date, this is set in the wee hours of the day that Edward leaves Bella. I never thought he actually stayed away from her those last nights. I also think that on some level Bella knew what was coming, hence her sleep-talking. Oh, and when he's staring at her neck he's not really tempted to drink her, he's just having fun tormenting himself. ;)  
**


	14. Innocence

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Innocence  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**14\. Innocence**

* * *

Edward wants to kill our baby.

He's taking such good care of me,

making sure I'm comfortable and don't need anything.

He's always so loving and protective.

Yet he called our tiny little nudger a _thing_.

How _could_ he?

Another plane ride, heading home and trying to stay awake.

Only this time, it's not because I don't want to miss a minute.

Because I'm afraid I'll dream of Edward in a Volturi cloak,

pacing steadily, inexorably, toward our terrified, green-eyed son,

dream of trying to save our little boy,

and failing.

I can't fail now.

I _have _to save him.

* * *

**A/N: Canon-compliant, Bella POV. Set on the way back to Forks from Isle Esme. **


	15. Insidious

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Insidious  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 1111**

* * *

**15\. Insidious**

* * *

I've never had any illusions about what I am. I'm a vampire. Vampires are meant to live on human blood.

I have, at times, hated what I am. I've hated the terror and grief that I cause as I end people's lives. I've wished my talent didn't work on humans so that I wouldn't have to bear the burden of the emotions I cause. But, just as any predator sustains itself on the lives of lesser creatures, I never felt I had any choice but to kill humans.

But then I met Alice. And she told me there was another way.

She's been such a gift to me. She surrounded me with her joy and love. She introduced me to the animal-blood diet. She gave me a family in the Cullens. She brought peace and happiness into my life that I hadn't thought was possible for our kind.

But still… while we can survive on animal blood, we're designed to hunt humans. It's what is normal for us, what is natural.

I've killed several humans over the years since we joined the family—"accidents" the Cullens called them. And I suppose they were, since I certainly hadn't intended to kill anyone. But underneath my sorrow for what I had done—sorrow for grieving Alice, for disappointing everyone, for making us move—was the belief that my failure was only to be expected. Vampires are made for human blood. Sometimes it was just impossible to resist.

Then Edward fell in love with a human.

I knew he loved her; it poured off him, along with his uncertainty and self-hatred. When he was with her, he emanated a happiness and a wonder I'd never felt in him. Any concerns I may have had that she felt less for him were laid to rest the first time he brought her to the house. Underpinning and outweighing any other emotion that she felt that day was her love for him. I was happy for him—I knew what it was to be without a mate—and was glad that after so many solitary years, he had found his.

I came to know her character while Alice and I were protecting her from James. I liked her, very much, and thought she was a good match for Edward. If only he would change her! Not only because they loved each other with a strength I'd only felt in mates. Not only because she made him happier than I'd ever felt him to be. But because it was becoming harder to resist her.

As the months passed her scent became embedded into every fabric in the main living areas of the house. For Edward, the constant exposure reduced his bloodlust. For me, it had the opposite effect. The hunting part of my brain couldn't understand. _Why didn't you drink her? She's there for the taking. Just do it._

Ironically, if I'd been drinking humans her presence may not have been such an issue, since it wasn't that she smelled exceptionally good to me. But my brain knew how much better human blood was than animal, and here I had a human around all the time… There was a constant plea in my head to drink her. _Just a little sip. She'll taste so good. It's been so long. Just drink her._

I was able to hide from Edward the strain I was under, though he knew enough of my struggles in general to keep a close eye on me when I was around his mate. I was determined not to kill Bella, so I was even able to hide from Alice. There were a few times I suspected she may have seen something untoward, but all my decisions were honestly geared towards keeping the girl alive.

We should have gone away over the summer. I wanted to, just for a respite, but Alice was so happy to spend time with her friend I couldn't bear to even suggest it. Alice's happiness has always been my paramount concern. Rosalie and Emmett went away, which at least relieved me of the burden of her petty jealousy and rancor. I don't know how much it benefitted me in the end, however, as I was sorry to lose Emmett's near-constant good humor and the distraction of games and sparring with him. I kept my distance from Bella as I best I could, and tried to ignore my brain's incessant whisper to drink her. _Just do it. You know you want to. Just imagine the flavor. It'll be so good._

School started up again for Alice and Edward. Rosalie and Emmett were still in Africa so I mostly was home with just Esme. Once she asked me to take something up to Edward's room for her. Bella's scent was so strong there, stronger than anywhere else in the house. Without intending to or realizing how much time was passing, I stood in his room for almost two hours letting her scent rip through me. _Drink her. It will be so wonderful. You've been so long without an accident. Just drink her._

Then Alice insisted on having a birthday party for Bella. Esme liked the idea, but I think she and Alice were the only ones. Edward was torn: he wanted to shower her with gifts, but even I knew that wouldn't happen, and we all knew Bella wouldn't really want a party. I've never met anyone who was so discomforted by attention. Alice was so excited about it, even getting Rosalie to agree to come back. Emmett was happy to be home; he'd missed all of us, including Bella.

Bella came through the door of our house, exuding embarrassment and even, as she took in the state of the house, a little horror. That her horror was at the decor and not at the vampires waiting for her made me smile, as did Alice's enthusiasm. Alice dragged Bella near the table with the cake, and started handing her presents. I stayed where I was at the foot of the stairs at first, laughing outright at her reaction to the empty stereo box, then moved closer when Alice handed her the present from herself and Edward. We all wanted to see Bella's reaction: Alice had been positive that she would cry, and Edward was just hopeful that she would like it. She started to open it, and sliced her finger on the paper.

It was the tiniest cut, but her blood was in the open air.

One word ran through my mind: blood.

_Blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood blood..._

My mind emptied of all else, and I lunged.

* * *

**A/N: Jasper POV. I'm not sure if this is canon-compliant, AU, or somewhere in the middle. I was trying to figure out why Jasper attacked Bella since 1) he goes to school- it's impossible that no one has ever gotten a paper cut near him before, and 2) it seems reasonable to assume he fed before the party. So if he wasn't thirsty and she didn't smell exceptionally good to him (Edward tells Bella in Twilight that Jasper doesn't notice the difference between humans' scents), then what pushed him over the edge? This is my imagining of what could have happened. Oh, and if it's not clear, Jasper is the insidious thing in this- he gets more and more dangerous to Bella, but no one realizes it.**


	16. Limit

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Limit  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 485**

* * *

**17\. Limit**

* * *

Reunions were really weird things. If anyone had told him a week ago that he'd be spending the night, however chastely, with his old high school sweetheart, he would have laughed his head off. He wheeled the desk chair over and propped his feet up on the bed, attempting to get comfortable. He tried not to enjoy the sight of her snuggled under the covers.

"You know what, Edward?" Her voice was a little sleepy. "I shouldn't have come to the reunion. No matter how much Alice harassed me. I should have known it was a really bad idea. It's so surreal, it's like the present doesn't really exist, like it transports you back into all the feelings and emotions you had then."

"Is that all it is?"

"That's all it can be."

He didn't know what to say. He knew that wasn't all it was, but she was right. It could never be anything more.

"I'm married, Edward. I love him. I love my kids. I..." Her voice trailed off and she covered her face with her hands.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Even if I didn't love him, I stood in a church and made promises. I can't do this to him. He doesn't deserve it. And my kids! I just... I can't do this to any of them."

"I know," he repeated. "I know you can't. Even though I want you to, _so_ _much_, Bella, I'm not asking you to. You're loyal. You always try to do the right thing. It's part of what I love about you. How could I ask you to do what would hurt you so much?"

He never had been able to bear seeing her cry, and apparently nothing had changed over the years in that regard. He wanted to crawl in bed with her and hold her and cry with her, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he went to the bathroom and pulled the little box of tissues out of the side of the counter to give to her. She thanked him in a muffled voice and he tried not to smile.

He knew how things were going to play out. He would stay in the chair, and she would stay in the bed. In the morning they would hug awkwardly and go their separate ways, she to the airport to return to her family, and he to his lonely apartment. Neither one would try to contact the other, she because she would feel too guilty, and he because he wouldn't want to encourage her to do anything that would make her feel that way. He would attend any future reunions in the hope that she would come.

But he knew she probably wouldn't.

He watched her relax into slumber, and took a drink of his coffee. If this was all the time he would have with her, he didn't intend to sleep through it.

* * *

**A/N: AU/AH, Edward POV. I'm not sure how happy I am with this, but it's finished, so here it is. I'm skipping #16 until Aro either decides to cooperate with me, or I kick him to the curb and get a new idea. :)**


	17. Mist

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Mist  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 1353**

* * *

**18\. Mist**

* * *

After we decided to move to Forks, Alice began having the visions.

They were flashes, really; brief fuzzy images of me with a dark-haired young woman. We appeared to be outside, in an open area surrounded by trees; a meadow of some sort. The closer we came to the move, the clearer the details of the meadow became, until I was sure that I would be able to find it.

Alice said nothing about my decision to search for it, just smiled widely and bounced a little. We had an unspoken agreement not to mention the visions. I couldn't bear the thought of Carlisle and Esme's delight, Jasper's pleased empathy, Emmett's teasing, Rose's jealous rancor. It was hard enough dealing with Alice's thinly concealed excitement. So after the first one I decided to ask her not to talk to anyone about them, even me. She had nodded in response to the vision my decision gave her, her face solemn but her eyes so joyful that I smiled in return, even as I felt badly for making her keep silent about something that made her this happy. It was just until I met my mate, though. After I met her I could handle everyone's reactions with equanimity. Surely if Alice was seeing us together it wouldn't take long to find her?

The day after we moved I began my search. I looked mostly at night, or other times when all the couples were occupied, because I didn't want anyone to wonder what I was doing. At dawn on the fifth day, I finally found it.

It was beautiful: small, perfectly round, filled with wildflowers, distant birdsong, and the burble of water. I was crushed by disappointment, though, because the meadow was empty of what, or rather who, I most wanted to see.

It had been irrational to hope that she would be there. I knew that, but I was longing to meet her. I had never realized how lonely I was, but now that I knew I would find her I felt as though I was suffocating under the full weight of my eighty-four years of unmated vampire existence.

I lay in the center of the meadow for over an hour, uncaring of the misty air that eventually soaked my clothes and hair, dreaming of the day that my mate would be there with me.

Two years passed with excruciating slowness. As the days went by, though, Alice's visions grew in length and clarity. I grew familiar with the curve of my mate's waist, the way she would gently run her hand over my face and into my hair, how she looked laying next to me with her head pillowed on my chest, the way her hair moved about her when she turned her head, the smallness of her slender frame next to mine. Even though I had never seen her face I was certain I would know her anywhere.

I spent countless hours in the meadow, thinking of her. It troubled me that she was out in the world unprotected. I knew my sisters and mother well enough to know that she most likely could take care of herself, but I also knew my brothers and father well enough to know that it was natural to desire to protect your mate. I looked forward to the day when I would have the privilege of protecting her. I also worried that she wouldn't be a vegetarian. As far as I knew, only our family and the Denalis abstained from human blood. If she fed traditionally, I hoped she wouldn't have a difficult time making the transition.

But mostly I wondered about more pleasant things. What was her name? When had she been changed? What books did she like? What music? What made her laugh? What made her sad, or angry? I longed to learn everything about her. I wished Alice's visions would allow me to see her face; the few where her features were visible were blurry, like I was looking into a mirror fogged up by the heat of the shower. If only it was possible to swipe the condensation away and see her clearly! I knew she was beautiful; I just wanted to _see_ her.

Alice shared my impatience. She had begun to see visions of herself with my mate, the two of them best of friends, and was eager for their friendship to begin.

One day it occurred to me that just because Alice saw me with my mate in Forks didn't mean that I met her here. I thought about leaving to look for her, but that made the visions vanish. Alice came running, mentally demanding to know what I had done and ordering me to change my mind. Panicked, I made the decision to stay; both of us heaving a sigh of relief when the visions reappeared.

Clearly, I needed to wait here for her. I would wait forever for her, but I wished that I wouldn't need to wait even one more second.

Sometimes I wondered if my own desperate, contradictory feelings would drive me mad.

Jasper had begun giving me odd looks, unsure how to interpret the emotions he was feeling from me. I spent more and more time out of the house, either in the meadow or simply running, and fought the inclination to despair. Why was it taking so long? This school year was half over and next year I would graduate and be expected to go off to college. My time here was limited. When would she come?

My growing sense of urgency made me struggle with thoughts that frightened me. What if she made a decision that took her in a different direction? What if something happened to her? What if one day Alice's visions just… stopped? What if in the end, I never met her? How would I ever bear the emptiness of my life, having seen the glimpses of us together and the happiness on my own face?

School, always boring, was now intolerable. Why was I wasting my time with these human children when I should be out of here, somewhere, anywhere that she could find me? It wasn't like I was going to find her here at Forks High!

I slouched in my chair in the cafeteria, not bothering to pretend to eat, trying to block out the insipid human minds around me. I'd heard the new girl's name and seen her face in countless minds today. It was maddening. While the thoughts that bombarded me were never very interesting, they usually at least varied. The fixation on this girl due to no quality of her own, merely due to her novelty, was ridiculous.

I could see her looking at us from the other side of the room, her shoulders hunched forward as if she were cold, or uncomfortable. Perhaps she didn't like being the center of attention. I pitied her, if so. She would be the center of attention for a long time in this town.

Our eyes met for a moment, then she turned her head to give her attention to whatever Jessica was saying, her hair sliding over her shoulder and down her back in a way that was completely familiar.

I blinked.

That was… really strange. How odd that the human girl's hair should be like my mate's. I looked at Alice to see if she'd noticed, but her attention was fixed on Jasper.

Huh. I tried to shake off the unease I felt, staring sightlessly at my untouched food. It was just hair. There probably were countless women whose hair slid over their shoulder the exact same way. Just because I knew my mate was unique didn't mean her _hair_ was.

Emmett kicked my chair as he passed me, startling me out of my reverie. The cafeteria was beginning to empty out. As I disposed of my tray I wondered darkly how many more times in my limitless existence I would need to suffer through Biology. Oh well. Only two more periods and then I'd be free to look for my mate once more.

* * *

**A/N: AU/Vamps, Edward's POV. Poor Edward's in for quite a surprise when he gets to Biology. ;)**


	18. Pristine

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Pristine  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+  
**

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**19\. Pristine**

* * *

"Bella?"

No reply. He found her in the kitchen doing homework.

"Hi Dad," she said lifelessly. "Dinner's almost ready."

Of course it was.

Dinner was always on time now.

The house was spotless. It had never been so perfectly clean and neat.

Her grades were excellent.

She was responsible, quiet, undemanding.

He hated it.

The timer buzzed. She took out the food. Moved her books. Set the table.

She looked like an automaton.

Ha! Robots showed more emotion than she did.

Except at night…

He shuddered.

She didn't notice.

Somewhere in there was his little girl.

He wanted her back.

* * *

**A/N: Set sometime in November or December 2005, Charlie POV. A lot of times Bella is portrayed as doing nothing during her zombie period, possibly because of the way the movie showed the passing of the months- which, while moving and excellent for the purposes of the film, wasn't accurate. In NM chapter 4, when Charlie gets frustrated at her Bella feels it's unjust because of how on top of everything she's been, and then when she gets to school early that day it says she usually avoids ever having free time. So the impression I have is that she is keeping herself busy, and doing everything very deliberately so that she doesn't have a chance to think. **


	19. Serendipity

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Serendipity  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 330**

* * *

**20\. Serendipity**

* * *

Would someone please tell me exactly _what_ is so special about Bella Swan?

The minute she walked through the door of the school, the guys were falling all over her. It's _completely_ ridiculous. Mike, Eric, and even _Tyler_. _Everyone_ knows that Tyler is _mine, _but now he's going around telling people that he's taking _her_ to prom. Her! When he could have _me_! I can't understand _why_ he would be interested in her. She's done nothing to deserve it. She hasn't made any effort to pursue him that I can see, or even attempted to make herself look a little more presentable. She always wears super-casual clothes and never wears makeup to hide how pale she is. Really, she isn't even pretty!

And then today, who do you suppose drove her to school? Edward Cullen. Edward Freaking _Cullen_ drove drab little Bella Swan to school! At first I thought that it must be a pity drive, like maybe her awful truck broke down and he passed her on the road or something, even though he's certainly never bothered to expend any energy helping anyone else with _anything_. But then I actually _saw_ him touching her face in between classes and, _yeah_. He is _definitely_ interested in her. He's been _so_ standoffish since they moved here from Alaska two years ago that hardly anyone even _bothers_ trying to catch him anymore. Not that _I_ wanted him. I was _never_ interested in him. But plenty of other girls were, _especially_ Jessica. Poor Jessica's been trying to get him _and_ Mike to notice her for the last year—unsuccessfully, I might add—and yet all Bella Swan has to do is trip her way through the door and the hottest guys in school are practically fighting over her.

_Seriously_. She's like the luckiest girl in the _world_ or something. The way she looks, and the way she acts, it makes _zero_ sense that all these guys want her.

Life really just isn't fair.

* * *

**A/N: Canonish, Lauren POV. Oh, poor, poor Lauren. Somehow I don't believe her that she never wanted Edward... ;) To be honest, I don't know if canon-Lauren would have acknowledged that Bella didn't pursue Tyler, but for the purposes of this prompt she needed to. :)  
**


	20. Shattered

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Shattered  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 393**

* * *

**21\. Shattered**

* * *

**Thursday, 17 March 2005**

Nine days.

One day in the hospital.

Two days hiding.

One day fleeing.

Five days of bliss.

Five days of her life? Was that all I would get with her?

I know I should be grateful for whatever time I have with her, but really? Only five days?

I've been busying myself with unnecessary tasks: adjusting the nasal cannula tubing, straightening her sheet and blanket, smoothing her hair—anything that would give me the chance to touch her. I suppose I could have just sat and held her hand, but I didn't feel I deserved the privilege. Just look at what my weakness and selfishness had done to her.

She'd been hunted by a depraved vampire, taunted, tortured, leg broken, ribs broken, skull fractured, bruised, cut, and perhaps worst of all, bitten. And then nearly killed a second time, by me, when I sucked out James' venom. When I drank her blood.

All because I couldn't manage to stay away from her and let her live her life in peace.

No, I did not deserve to hold her hand.

I rested my head on the edge of her bed, my hair just touching hers, breathing her in. Her scent was beginning to return to normal, losing the smell of other people's blood, and I reveled in it. It was proof she was still alive. It was proof she would heal.

Her mother had arrived a few hours ago. Under ordinary circumstances, her whimsical mind would have fascinated me, but since it currently was filled with thoughts of Phil getting signed, and wanting Bella to move to Jacksonville…

I moved my head so I could see Bella's precious face. I should encourage her to go. She would enjoy the heat and the sun. She deserved to live her life in the light. If I really loved her, I would encourage her to go, and let her live her life far away from me, where she would be safe.

Pain ripped through my chest at the thought and I took another deep breath of her scent, as if to reassure myself that she was still here.

I've always known I would need to leave her. I need to figure out how to be strong enough to do what's best for her. I need to figure out how to let her go.

* * *

**A/N: Twilight canon, Edward POV. The worst thing about Edward is that in all his stupid decisions he really is trying to do the best thing. This is set the day before Bella wakes up in the hospital- in case you're wondering, I've been getting the dates for the stories in this challenge from the timeline on the Twilight Lexicon. :)  
**


	21. Treasure

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Treasure  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**22\. Treasure**

* * *

My dearest Renesmee,

I love you. You're such a precious gift to your daddy and me, a miracle that we never thought was possible. I wish we could have known you longer, but I am so thankful for every moment we had with you.

Never think that this was your fault. You were just the excuse used by evil, power-hungry vampires to hurt us. Jacob can explain more, but I promise it's not your fault.

Always remember how much we love you. More than anything else in the world. More than our own lives.

I love you, my Renesmee.

Momma

* * *

**A/N: BD canon-compliant, Bella POV. My take on the "love note" for Renesmee that Bella put in her little backpack. It was going to be longer, but then I thought about how Bella had to write four of these notes without Edward finding out and figured they would all have to be short. And yes, it made me cry, and I am glad to post it and never have to look at it again. LOL  
**


	22. Waffle

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Waffle  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: K+**

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**24\. Waffle**

* * *

I stared into the Cullens' freezer. "Edward, why on earth do you guys have four kinds of waffles?"

He kissed my hair. "No idea. Maybe Esme wanted to give you a selection to choose from?"

"I guess I'll have blueberry…oh, but the apple cinnamon looks good… and there's buttermilk… and chocolate! How am I supposed to decide?!"

"Have one of each."

"Ew, not together!"

"Use separate plates then. It's not like anyone else uses them."

"No, I'll just have blueberry and buttermilk." I put them in the toaster. "Do you have syrup?"

"We have maple, boysenberry, cinnamon, ap—"

"Edward!"

* * *

**A/N: Canon friendly, Bella POV. Just a piece of silliness. And heaven knows I'm glad for that after yesterday's prompt. :)  
**


	23. Kingdom

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Kingdom  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T**

**Word Count: 500**

* * *

**16\. Kingdom**

* * *

I let my gaze drift across the army assembled against us. So many proven fighters, ready and waiting for us. So many gifted ones: the illusionist, the element master, the truth reader, the fire touch, the mind reader, the shield, the empath, the psychic…

My eyes paused at Carlisle. What a coven he'd made for himself! Half of the opposing talent belonged to him. And all the so-called witnesses he'd gathered, talented and untalented alike… Who would have thought that Carlisle, with all his weakness and useless compassion, could muster such a force against me?

Chelsea's, Jane's, and Alec's abilities all had been repelled. It was astonishing—not that the newborn had such a mighty gift, for had not I myself seen the possibilities while she was still human?—but that she had control over it at such a young age. However, even at such an unprecedented disadvantage we could still attack. We _should_ attack them, perhaps. We would lose some on our side, certainly, but it might be unwise to allow such an affront to our authority to pass unchallenged. Yet to destroy so much talent, so much that I could use, and so much of my own guard… what a waste it would be.

I looked at Edward, Carlisle's first creation. How arrogant he was. How perversely independent. How _powerful_. How foolishly he wasted his power, using it only to protect his coven in their attempts to mix with the human world. What could I do with such power! The ability to hear from a distance, to hear those whose hands I couldn't touch—how useful it would be.

My attention turned to his mate and I stared into her eyes, searching for any sign of weakness or fear. I wanted her for the guard—if she could do so much as a newborn, what would she be able to do when she was mature? Yes, I wanted her; I wanted them both.

Yet her shield, the very thing which made me long to have her under my control, was the thing which threatened me the most. Everything that I had so painstakingly built over the centuries, all my power, my unquestioned rule over the vampire world, could be irreparably damaged or even lost. Lost! It was barely conceivable. And all because a newborn and her shield prevented my greatest offensive players from doing their jobs.

How long would she be able to hold the shield? How well would she be able to control it? Long enough and well enough for Jane and Alec to be destroyed? For Demetri and Caius? Oh, I heard them divvying us up. I had heard strategies like that before, but never when there was the slightest possibility of them being successful. Never when there was a chance of us actually _losing. _

She stared back at me, unflinching, hatred and a steely resolve in her eyes, and I knew we couldn't fight today. I couldn't risk defeat. I had too much to lose.

* * *

**A/N: BD canonish, Aro POV. Set during those lines on p 738 when Aro looks at Carlisle and Edward, then stares at Bella. Not sure if I captured him correctly, but his head is squicky and I was happy to get out of it. LOL Many thanks to Jessica314 for her help!**


	24. Worthless

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Worthless  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 100**

* * *

**25\. Worthless**

* * *

He should have just left me on the floor.

Instead, he put me on the bed, covered me with my quilt.

He hovers.

He talks to me.

At me.

About me.

I wish he would leave me alone.

Doesn't he know I'm not worth this?

He sits in the rocking chair in the corner, watching me.

I want to set that chair on fire.

To do that I'd have to get up.

I'm not getting up today.

He called Renee.

They talk to me.

At me.

Over me.

I wish they would leave me alone.

Don't they know I'm nothing?

* * *

**A/N: NM during Bella's catatonic week, Bella POV. The "he" in this is Charlie, the poor man. Only one prompt left after this- it'll be up sometime this weekend. :D**


	25. Tryst

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

**thetwilight25 dot com**

**Prompt: Tryst  
**

**Main Character: Bella  
**

**Rating: T  
**

**Word Count: 1845**

* * *

**23\. Tryst**

* * *

**Friday, September 2, 2005**

**10:20 p.m.**

.

I lay on my bed reading _Romeo and Juliet_, wondering grumpily why they bothered to start school on the Thursday of a holiday weekend. Surely they didn't need to build that many snow days into the school calendar? I checked my clock for the tenth time, wishing Edward would hurry up and get here. I was ready to be distracted. There was a tiny plink against my window. I ignored it, but then there was another; after the third, I rolled off the bed and went to investigate.

Edward was standing down in my yard, his hand pulled back in preparation for tossing another pebble. He'd changed his clothes since I saw him last; he was now wearing black slacks and a blue dress shirt, and was twirling a rose in his other hand.

I threw up the window. "What are you doing?"

He gave me my favorite crooked smile. "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun…" I sagged against the windowsill as he continued on through Romeo's speech to Juliet, ending smoothly with: "See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!"

I faintly quoted Juliet's next line: "Ay me!" For the first time, I really understood how she felt.

He twirled the rose again, smiling up at me. "Might I entreat my lady to come out with me tonight?"

"Yes," I said positively.

He chuckled. "You don't want to know where?"

"Don't care." I shrugged. "I'll be with you."

"Back up."

Well, that was a weird response. I did, and in the next second he was in my room, touching my face with his cold fingers. I shivered, and he pulled his hand away.

"Sorry. It's chilly out."

"I didn't shiver because I was cold," I muttered.

He laughed. "Oh Bella. I love you."

"I love you, too."

We stood smiling at each other for a moment, then he roused himself to action. "You'll need a hoodie or a jacket. Or both. And are you wearing warm socks?"

What? "Where are you taking me?" I asked suspiciously.

"I thought you didn't care," he teased me.

"Well, now I'm curious," I replied, as I changed my socks.

Hey, I've lived in Forks for almost eight months. When someone says to wear warm socks I take them seriously. I wondered if I should put long underwear on under my jeans. I held the thin pants up questioningly, and he nodded. "Might be a good idea."

Ten minutes later, he had me so bundled up I felt ready for the Arctic. He presented his back to me. "Hop on," he said cheerfully.

I took a step back. "Um, we could just go out the front door?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he wanted to know. He stood waiting for me.

I heaved a longsuffering sigh and climbed on, burying my face in his neck. I couldn't contain a squeak when he jumped out the window, and I felt him chuckle. Stupid, smug vampire.

He hadn't run long, a little more than ten minutes perhaps, when he began to slow. I opened my eyes as he jogged through the trees into our meadow.

It was beautiful. There were small, white lights threaded through the trees, and in the center was spread a plush comforter topped with a huge pile of pillows, next to a small table with an oil lamp, and a cooler. He helped me down and darted away for a second, returning with the rose he had been holding earlier in a slender crystal vase. He presented it to me with a flourish and I took it carefully.

"Um, thanks. I'm surprised it survived the run."

He smirked. "I put it inside my shirt or it probably wouldn't have."

"Oh. Well, thank you." I buried my nose in it for a second. I could smell his scent mixed in with the fragrance of the rose. It was the best smelling rose ever.

"It's an American Beauty rose." He ran a cold finger down my blushing cheek. "It seemed appropriate."

"You're biased, I think."

"And you don't see yourself very clearly."

I rolled my eyes at our usual interchange.

"You don't, Bella," he insisted. He traced the features of my face with gentle fingers, then wrapped me in his arms. "You're beautiful. Inside and out."

I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged his face down so I could kiss him. We had skirted along the edge of his carefully-set limits for several minutes when I tried to pull myself closer to him. For a glorious second I thought he was going to let me, but then he broke away and rested his forehead against mine, his breathing ragged. "Ah, Bella," he sighed.

After a moment, he disentangled himself from me and went to rummage through the cooler. "Do you want tea or hot chocolate?"

"What?" I set the vase on the table and flopped down on the pile of pillows, shamefully out of breath.

"Tea or hot chocolate? It's so chilly I thought you might want something warm to drink. I wasn't sure which you would want so I brought both."

"I'm not at all cold." Who could be cold after a kiss like that?

He obviously took my meaning because he flashed me a grin and said, "Behave." He held up the two thermoses inquiringly.

"Tea, I guess."

He handed it to me, then pulled something out of the cooler and blew out the lamp. A second later I felt him next to me wrapping me in a blanket.

"It's warm," I breathed, surprised.

I felt him shrug. "I didn't want you to be cold. I have a few more—I was hoping we could stay out here all night."

"I wish we could. I have to be home before Charlie though." I horrible thought struck me and I almost spilled my tea. "Crap! Edward, what if he runs home to check on me? He'll have a fit if I'm not there." He would panic; I knew him. I could picture myself trying to sneak home in the wee hours and finding the house wrapped in crime scene tape.

Edward's thumb made soothing circles on my back. "Relax, love. Alice called him and got permission for you to spend the night, and after we left she packed a bag for you and drove your truck to our house. He's glad you're not home alone, actually."

I sighed in relief and capped the thermos so I could lay down next to him. "Then yes, I would love to stay out here all night with you." He chuckled and I stared up at the sky in wonder. "There are so many stars. I don't think I've ever seen so many."

"It's supposed to be clear for the next twelve hours or so; it's part of why I picked tonight to do this."

"I guess it helps that there's no moon, too."

"Almost none. There's still the tiniest sliver of it, over there." I looked where he pointed and didn't see anything. "The new moon starts in the morning, not that we'll be able to tell then."

"What, you won't be able to see it with your x-ray vision?" I teased him.

"Since I can't see through the earth, no, silly girl." He slid his arm under me and pulled me closer so my head rested against his shoulder.

"Doesn't seem to be very impressive then… hey, what's the other reason you picked tonight?"

I felt him kiss my head through my hat. "It's not a school night…" _kiss_ "your father is working all night…" _kiss_ "and this."

He turned us so I was looking up at the sky again just as the first streak of light flashed across it. What must have been hundreds of others followed over the next few hours, becoming as frequent as one or two a minute. I watched in fascination, vaguely aware when Edward got up and wrapped another blanket around me, and drifted off to sleep still seeing streaks of light across my closed eyes.

I woke to more light in my eyes, but this time it was shimmer of Edward's skin in the sun. He smiled at me. "Good morning."

"Mm, morning," I mumbled. I tried to stretch and realized I couldn't. Edward had me completely swaddled in blankets; I looked like a huge burrito. I couldn't even move my arms. "Um, help?"

He laughed out loud. "Maybe I should keep you this way, completely at my mercy."

"I'm always at your mercy." A shadow crossed his face and I cursed myself for saying that. "I didn't mean… I just meant, I love you. Of course I'm at your mercy. I like being at your mercy. Just not as a blanket burrito."

He smirked. "Maybe I like you as a blanket burrito." I was relieved to see the darkness was gone from his eyes.

"Maybe I don't like being one."

"Maybe I just want to unwrap you." He gave me a smoldering look, and even though I was certain he was joking my heart skipped a beat. He started laughing and I scowled at him.

"Very funny, Edward. I wish you couldn't hear my heart so easily."

He cradled my face in his hands. "Your heart is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard in my entire existence."

My hands itched to touch him. "Please unwrap me?"

He kissed me lingeringly. "Maybe."

I craned my neck up to kiss him. "Please?" I whispered against his lips. "Unwrap me?"

Before I knew what was happening, I was standing up with the blankets at my feet, and Edward was on the far side of the meadow.

"You, Miss Swan, are dangerous," he called out.

I sat back down, shaking my head to clear it. "Whoa. Head rush."

In less than a second he was back on the comforter with me, his hands on my shoulders. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." I scooted closer to him, rolling my eyes as he wrapped me in a blanket before he let me lean against him. "No more burrito-ing," I said sternly.

He chuckled. "Don't worry. I've learned my lesson."

I huffed a laugh. "Good."

We sat quietly in the peaceful meadow, surrounded by the reflected light from his skin. It was beautiful.

After a long time I broke the silence. "Edward, last night… thank you. I loved it."

He replied in a voice that was almost shy, "Well, you won't let me buy you presents so I have to get creative."

"I don't need presents. I have you."

His arm tightened around me, and the shimmers danced about us as he moved his head to rest it against mine. He said regretfully, "I should get you back to the house."

I wanted to stay here with him forever. I reached for his free hand and squeezed it. "Not yet."

* * *

**A/N: Canon-friendly, set before the beginning of NM, Bella POV. To the best of my knowledge, Forks High didn't start school before Labor Day and there was no meteor shower on that night- and who knows if it actually was clear!-but I wanted Edward to have a reason to quote Romeo and I wanted the meteor shower, so I made it be so. ;) The new moon did start at 11:45 am on 3 September that year- found it out completely by accident, and then I had to include it. :D The American Beauty rose is a really pretty dark pink. According to victorianbazaar dot com, a dark pink rose means thankfulness, and a single full bloom means I truly love you. I know Edward was an Edwardian and not a Victorian, but it seemed like something he might know. And now this challenge is complete! This has been fun to write for, and I'm happy it's gotten me back into writing regularly. I'm going to be extending a few of these- Ancient, Desecrate, and Mist for certain- if you're interested in that or in reading anything else of mine, please follow me. :)  
**

**UPDATE 6/9/2015: I've posted an expanded one-shot of this with an Edward POV while Bella's sleeping called _Shooting Stars_. Come check it out!**


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